


Blue Rain

by ImpulsiveRenegade



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpulsiveRenegade/pseuds/ImpulsiveRenegade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts to rain in the wasteland. Early-game Vault 111 spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Fallout 4 Day! Here's a small introspective piece between Dogmeat and the Sole Survivor. Beginning game spoilers...but if you were really worried about that, why are you looking up Fallout 4 fanfiction on AO3?

Nora smelled rain in the air. It was something she didn't think she would miss as much as she did, but when the stars became blotted out by dark clouds and drops of water began to fall like tears she felt a sense of relief. Finally, it was something that reminded her of home.

She shifted the weight of her knapsack, and whistled. Sure enough, her faithful German Shepherd companion trotted over from behind a bush, his tail waggling.

"Look like it's gonna rain, Bud. Let's say we find somewhere to camp down for the night?" With a quiet bark, the dog jogged ahead of her. Nora kept her Chinese assault rifle poised as she followed in suit. Even though it had already been a few days since she left the Vault she still felt incredibly jumpy. Having a friend along--even one who couldn't talk--was a mild comfort out in the bastardization of a world she once called home.

The dog (whom she had taken to nicknaming him Bud) stopped at entrance of a cul-de-sac in the suburban neighbourhood. He turned his head to her, panting and wagging his tail. She followed, stepping carefully and quietly across the cracked pavement, unsure of what horror she might come across.

The houses were in shambles, just remnants of what they used to be...back in her time. Sunken roofs and broken beams were all there was to greet her instead of pristine lawns and white-picket fences. There was no warm glow of dining room lights through glass windows, or smoke pluming from chimneys on a cool autumn night. Nora felt a pang in her chest, a longing for her time, and the comforts of home.

As she carefully made her way over fallen debris, the dog sniffed ahead of her, going from house to house. Perhaps in the morning she would scavenge, there was bound to be something useful here, provided someone else didn't already get to it first.

The sole survivor picked a modest looking place, it was in ruins but it wasn't the worst of the bunch, nor was it the best. The porch worn and water-rotted. There was no door, and the back wall near the kitchen was completely blown out, but at least it had a roof. Rain was beginning to fall lightly as she raised the gun and checked every corner, not trusting her environment. Bud seemed content as he bounded up the steps. He shook off the rain drops on his fur and trotted through the debris happily, sniffing anything and everything. Seeing her canine friend happy but her at ease, and she lowered the gun. This would be fine for the night.

With the barely illuminated light from the flashlight on her Pip-Boy, it took a few minutes to go through the house. Underneath chunks of plaster and wood she found some materials, but there wasn't much. The fridge was empty, as were the cabinets. Clearly this place had been cleaned out some time within the 200 years. It was another night of going hungry.

Nora was lucky enough to find towels still in the bathroom and she gathered them, preparing to make herself a bed for the night. Still feeling insecure she set up inside the master bedroom walk-in closet. Once she was satisfied with her work she rolled up one more towel for a pillow and laid on the sheets, her gun beside her and still close on hand. The closet itself wasn't big, barely a hole in the wall but it gave her a sense of comfort and relief knowing she was hidden out of sight. Still, she won't allow herself to sleep. She couldn’t.

Bud entered the room a little while later, looking confused. She whistled to him and he nudged the closet door open with his snout, circling around a few times before curled up beside her. Nora ran a hand through his fur, feeling comforted by his presence, and despite herself she eventually fell asleep to the soft rainfall.

Her dreams were distorted and confusing, interwoven with memories and fears.

Kisses and blaring alarms. Vows and Vault doors. Wedding rings and nuclear bombs.  Honeymoons and frozen caskets. Screaming babies and robotic faces.

A gunshot and lifeless eyes.

She felt her lungs begin to freeze as the glass frosted over and she can't see Shaun anymore. She can't see Nate, she can't see. Her voice is useless, she can't breathe. There's nothing left but ice in her chest, a raw and piercing point through her heart. She can't move her legs, her feet, she can't scream, she can't do anything. It isn't just a cryogenic pod anymore.

It's a frozen tomb.

Nora awoke with a start, gasping for breath. It was dark in the closet, too dark, and she couldn't see. She felt like she was being suffocated, unable to catch her breath.  Her breathing was laboured and shaky as she felt her whole world tip upside down. "Nate? Shaun?!" She gasped out. When she heard no response reality slammed back into her. Nate was dead. Shaun was kidnapped. This wasn't home. Even though she had awoken, she was still living a nightmare. She may never see Shaun again. She would die never knowing where and what happened to her son. She was a failed mother, stuck in a cryogenic chamber unable to do anything while she watched her son be ripped from her dead husband's arms.

She felt blindly through the dark for her Pip-Boy and gun, desperate for anything to ground her, but instead met with a pair of fuzzy ears and a high-pitched whine as something wet licked the tears from her face. Nora wrapped her arms around the dog and wept silently. Bud stayed still patiently until she was done and laid back down beside her, his flank pressed to her side and his head on her shoulder with a warmth to remind her she wasn't alone in this. 

In the morning she put her Pip-Boy back on and picked up her gun, her ever faithful friend beside her as they headed back outside, the sun barely peaking over the horizon and painting the world of grey and blue with golden hues. She scratched her arm and gave a small smile as Bud trotted up to her, with a stick in his mouth. "Give it here," she chuckled and he dropped it into her hand. She gripped the stick and drew her arm back, throwing the piece of wood as hard as she could. Bud took off like a shot, chasing after the stick with a reckless abandon. Only a mutt would have such sheer joy and optimism in such a pessimistic, barren place. Perhaps she needed to learn to let go, adapt and move on.

Nora may not know where she was going, or how to find her son, but at least she knew that she had someone with her no matter what, a companion to the very end.

Even if he did have fleas.


End file.
